Long Awaited Nap [Death ; Closed]

The light and steady fall of snow forced the forest into an almost deafening silence, save for the thoughts of loved ones that bounced around his head. Did they know where he'd been? The things he's seen, the adventures hed been on! Were they still waiting for him to come home? He couldn't stand the thought of them still worrying about him. It was time to get up.

His knees seemed to creak and groan as he forced himself to his paws yet again. He'd been laying here for quite some time, light snowfall building a thin layer on his dirtied old pelt. He shook himself, losing balance for a few seconds before moving forward again. Every paw step hurt, blood speckling each indent he left behind, all fours frostbitten and old wounds causing old aches to return. Had winter always been this cold? "That's it, ol boy. One paw in front of the other. Left. Right..." He watched his paws in fear he'd trip and have to start again, only looking up to make sure he'd been on track to his target: a bridge. He'd seen it from atop the ridge in SkyClan territory. He knew that bridge, and no matter how tired or hurt his body was, he would make it there and then some. His home was just on the other side. His people. His apprentice. The barn. Warmth.

Of course, he would not forget the reasons he even made it here to begin with: The first being Silverwing who shared the warmth of her pelt in the area he now knew as Highstones. He felt guilty still about forgetting her the moment they first spoke, but as the conversation went on, all of that was put behind them. Whatever her past had been before her story didn't matter to him. He respected her for standing up for what she believed in and wished her great happiness going forward. The she-cat deserved to be surrounded by friends and family. He trusted her with his apprentice should Grub ever find his way that far into the forest. He just hoped the kid wouldn't cause the silver molly any real trouble.

The second cat he met was Sablestrike, the tom who lived in the marshlands and one of the many cats that were kidnapped and brought to a distant farm. He was extremely thankful to Sablestrike for helping him during a fight with a weasel. His old age wouldn't have allowed him to get out of that in one piece, unfortunately. Mr. Worm chuckled to himself as he thought about the odds of running into the young tom again after all of that, glad that he was able to correct the kid on his name being MISTER Worm, not Mistworm. He felt that Sablestrike was a tough guy, and hoped he would keep himself out of trouble at least for his own sake. Otherwise, his impression of Sablestrike was a good one.

The third cat was one of the largest cats he had ever laid his old eyes on! She had caused a rather large branch to come crashing down from the treetops. He never caught her name, but the interaction would always be in his memories.

The fourth cat was Wolfblossom of the Sky Clan. He'd learned enough about her as she was willing to tell, but that was enough. Her name was a lovely mix of strength and soft beauty. She was a large cat, much bigger than he was, and had a soft-looking lilac pelt. Thanks to her guidance, they made it to the river quickly and without trouble. He hoped she made it back home alright. He felt a little guilty that he had immediately gotten turned around somehow once Wolfblossom had left, ending back where he had started: Highstones.

It was back at Highstones that he ran into Batsong, the medicine cat of... Wind Clan, was it? She was kind and gave him a life-changing experience. One that he would take with him to his last breath: Star Clan. The moonstone had been beautiful, yes. But the realm of stars that laid within it? Breathtaking. A Star Clan cat, Brindlesong, had even greeted him, solidifying that there were beings amongst the stars awaiting his return. And he had accepted them, the peacefulness of it all agreeing with him. One day, he would see Brindlesong once again, and, hopefully a long LONG ways down the line he would greet Batsong once again when it was her turn.

New found strength from the herbs received from Batsong, Mr. Worm made it back to the river. At the river's edge, he met Lightningpaw, the sixth and final cat he met before leaving the forest. A chatty young she-cat who he found to be oddly small, though he couldn't be sure since she remained in the treetops while they spoke. The way she spoke in rapid succession reminded Mr. Worm of Grub, the young tom waiting for him at the barn. Lightningpaw held a promising future, and he wished her nothing but the best and a long life.

He smiled to himself as he placed names to faces, proud that his memory was acting the way it should be. Though he cursed the strange humans that kidnapped him in the woods, there was an underlying gratitude he felt for being able to meet these wonderful forest cats. This would be one of his most treasured experience- "Ooph!" Mr. Worms front paw slipped on the icey and rotten wood at the very end of his trek across the bridge. He landed hard and heavy, the air leaving his lungs in a rush. He rested his head on the cold, snowy ground, unmoving. Still. His vision blurred. Perhaps... This would be as far as his wounded paws would carry him. Anxiety overwhelmed him, his vision slowly darkening. No. No! He hadn't seen Grub! That kid wouldn't survive without him! He wasn't finished training him... He still had so much to learn. He tried to stand back up, to push on. But although his brain was telling the rest of him to move, his body was not listening.

"And where have you been?" The anxiety washed away almost immediately at the sound of his apprentices scratchy voice, a smile breaking out on the old toms face, tears of relief washing away the new dirt on his face.  That's right. Grub was no longer a kitten. How could he have forgotten? He would fair just fine. He had to stop worrying over nothing and allow the tom to enjoy his life. Yes. That's all he needed, actually. Just to know that Grub was still around like he'd promised he would be. "I'm home!" His voice rasped weakly from his place on the ground. He didn't need to say he loved Grub, because he had said it every single day since he took the young cat under his wing. Grub knew. Grub was a good boy, and although Mr. Worm wished he didn't have to go out this way, just having the young tom beside him brought him much needed peace. He was free to let go.

And he did. Just like she promised, the beautiful star speckled molly Brindlesong had come to escort Mr. Worm to his newest place amongst the stars.